


A Quest for His Memories, a Quest for the Angels

by HammCheddr



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex doesn't remember much, Alternate Universe- Death Marks, Alternative Universe- Angels, Dark, F/F, F/M, Gen, Historically Inaccurate, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, LAFAYETTE AND ALEXANDER CENTRIC, Lafayette has a dark past, M/M, Memories, Multi, Prostitution, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery AU, This is fucking crazy, Torture, child prostitution, child rape, heed my warning, hes dead btw, im sorry, so is everyone in this fic, trigger warning, very dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:10:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HammCheddr/pseuds/HammCheddr
Summary: Alex is dead.He remembers being shot.But that's about it. Now, he's gone to heaven. A peaceful quiet place for the most part.An Angel whom he barely remembers finds him, and they begin discussing what exactly they're supposed to do in heaven. All Alex really wants to do is fly,, He's an Angel.But, when he finds out his friends (dark) past, and the fact that thousands of Angels have been enslaved, including his son, he must go on a quest.Please heed my warnings for rape, non con, slavery, and other dark themes.





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! Just a couple of notes before you dive in,,
> 
> There is Rape/Non con in this chapter,, but there is a warning before you read it. It is important because it ties with the story, but it is skip able. 
> 
> Okay so some people are Angels, some are demons. That's it. Easy peasy. Please heed my warnings about triggers and other things, it's gets pretty bad. 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Instagram: Hamilton.of.art
> 
> Thanks again, Loves!!
> 
> -Hamm

White.

Simple whiteness.

Blank nothingness.

Nothing.

He can't see.

Suddenly, he hears something.

‘WAIT!’

A gunshot.

Pain.

He feels pain.

A man suddenly falling to his knees.

He can see.

Two woman, one with dark skin the other with black hair, cry and talk to him, but he cannot process words.

The curly haired woman suddenly strokes his face with a soft hand.

He can feel.

She’s wiping away something.

His tears.

‘-ander! Alexander!’ The black haired woman yells, but he cannot speak.

His throat feels clotted.

He's choking on his own blood.

He's coughing, something wet drips from his mouth.

Blood.

The dark skinned woman leans down, and kisses both his eyes, while the other turns away, crying hysterically.

Everyone seems to be crying.

Even through the tears, the oldest of the two woman says something.

‘I've always loved you.’ she whispers.

She wipes her own tears away and joins the other, holding her hand and speaking quietly to her.

He's alone.

…

…….

He doesn't like to be alone

*  
*  
*  
*

  
Him. In his mother's dead stiff arms. She goes limp.

An image flashes before him, a young man on a boat.

He's on that boat.

He watches as the boat stops at a loud city,

New York.

He remembers that.

Suddenly, a man… THAT man, the one who killed him, is in front of him. They're speaking to each other, the man speaks nonchalantly, while he himself is full of energy.

 

Three.

Three men.

One, extremely tall, one slightly shorter, and one not much taller than himself, begin speaking to him. The tallest, with curly hair, is just as excited and enthusiastic as he was with the man from before. Bouncing up and down on his heeled boots, with a thick French accent.

The slightly shorter man wearing a beanie and had a slight slouch, acted like an old friend towards him. Patting him on the back, speaking of sewing, and poking longingly at the tallest of them.

The shortest of the three, face full of freckles, is cheery and loud, with a voice smooth like butter. He told him of his dreams and hopes. He lit up the room.

He's suddenly back in New York, as he watches the two woman from before and a shorter curly haired one strutted through the city, admiring men. The oldest of the three begins spinning around and dancing with the youngest, making her laugh, and the middle aged one pulls the three of them into a tight hug.

A king, staring longingly at a picture of a man with no hair and thick eyebrows, singing to him with a sad voice. How peculiar.

The same man from the picture is facing him, yelling about a war. He suddenly is sitting at a desk, writing furiously as the same man with the bald head rambles about his worries and being outnumbered.

Him and the woman with straight black hair, spinning and singing to each other, and sharing a soft kiss. He loves her.

The oldest of the sisters begins her speech… and suddenly…

he's pulled into a trance. Everything stops. He can understand her.

‘My name is Angelica Schuyler…’

Angelica. He remembers that name. He loves her too.

He watches as the two of them dance together, and as she falls in love with him.

But gives him up for her sister, as she says.

She stares sadly as he and her sister share the kiss once more, and his friends congratulate him.

He can't understand what they are saying anymore.

  
Hundreds of men, stand outside freezing. He himself even feels the bitter cold as it nips at his body.

He's sent home.

Home.

WIth the sister.

With his wife.

She's pregnant.

He started a family with her. She's beautiful.

The curly Frenchman from before is complaining to the the bald one, presumably about he himself.

There's a fight. Large and intense. But his friends are with him. He's not afraid.

The King is back. He seems upset.

No… he seems insane. Not right in the mind.

The freckled man writes him a letter.

He is dead.

How unfortunate. And yet, he doesn't cry, simply keeps working. Writing non stop.

He's at his desk once more. The man who killed him is yelling at him, and suddenly the bald man is back. He agrees to whatever he says. He respects him.

Everything is blurry. It's beginning to become hard to see.

The dark haired sister is back. His wife. She's upset about something, he's not sure what.

  
A man with curly hair is standing in front of him, sneering. He has ugly teeth. He wears purple velvet.

They argue to one another, they almost break out into a fight.

The sisters are back… but the youngest is missing. He seems to miss her, although he doesn't remember her very well. They're asking him something. They seem sad. A young boy with short curly hair and freckles is playing the piano. They sing together.

He loves him.

Letters. Many, many letters, as the sisters leave.

  
A woman. A new woman. She's beautiful. But,, something is menacing about her. He doesn't trust her.

He ends up taking her to bed.

The sister from before comes to mind. The one he married, he loved her! How could he be doing this? He has a son!

And yet he does it again.

And again.

And again.

  
The curly haired man is back, along with a new man. He is burly, shorter than the one wearing purple, and seems sick.

Another argument.

The man, the Frenchman, is the subject of the debate.

The Frenchman had helped him.

But… for some reason, this version of himself refuses to help.

The purple man is yelling at him, defending his French friend.

They don't help him.

  
The bald man is leaving. How sad. He was begining in to like him.

The curly haired man, the sick man and the murderer are back. They're upset about something.

They know.

They know about that woman.

He's been cheating.

He's decided to come clean. He doesn't like this secret.

Angelica is back. He still loves her.

She doesn't love him anymore.

She hates him.

So does her sister…

He watches as she cries, she burns the letters. He notices his son watching from the door. He's crying too.

How could he do this to them…

  
His son is dead. He stares in disbelief as he's shot, and begins to cry.

It's all too familiar.

He tries comforting him, begging him to stay alive.

The sister is back.

She pushes him away.

His son…. is dead.

  
He and the woman become closer once more. He cries everyday about his son.

And so does she.

They come together.

Angelica is sad, but happy.

He can't see..

The purple man is asking him something.

He agrees….

…..the murderer is back…..

………

……………….

…..  
…………

  
he's dead.

 

*  
*  
*  
*

“Hello?”

“Monsieur?”

...a light tap on his shoulder…

“m-mon amie?”

  
A hand is placed atop his forehead, then moves to his neck, seemingly checking for a pulse.

He's dead….

There's a sigh from above him. It's sounds like a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, he's being lifted off of his feet. He gasps and opens his eyes.

He can see.

He can hear.

He can feel.

He..

he…

he doesn't remember very much.

He stretches his wings-

wait.

He doesn't have wings…

Does he?

Turning around, he stares in shock, as a pair of grey wings span from his back. He almost faints in this person arms.

Speaking of which..

“GAH!” He jumps from the grasp of the mystery person, suddenly realizing he cannot walk, and instead stumbles and falls. “o-oww..” He Grips his shoulder, wincing at the pain.

“Mon dieu! Je suis desole!” He finally looked up, and stared in horror.

The tall man. The really tall man from his memory. He remembers him. His curly hair, dark eyes.

He betrayed him.

“AH!” He scoots back, away from the stranger, frightened he'll be angry with I'm for not helping him.

He's not angry. In fact, he seems rather nice.

“O-Oh, oh dear, I am very sorry. I did not mean to startle you, Alexandre!”

Alexandre.

Who was that?

Was..

was that him?

“I-is that my name?” He asked quietly. The Frenchman seemed shocked at first. Staring blankly with wide eyes at him, making him squirm, until finally breaking out of his trance.

“Oh! Uh, oui, that is, uh, you. B-but, your name is Alexander, Alexandre was simply a nickname from..

from… before.”

Alex nodded. He knew his name! God, thank goodness for-...

who was this man?

“W-what's your name, sir?” He asked. The Frenchman was looked taken aback for a second, but swallowed and answered him.

“I am, uh, Lafayette. I… still do not remember my full name… I have not been down here very long..” Lafayette looked sad.

“D-down here?” Laf nodded, confirming his fear. He really was dead. He must be in some sort of heaven, which means..

“Am I an angel?” He asked.

“Oui,, mon Amiens you are indeed an angel. As am I.” Laf turned on emphasis, showing off his pure white wings. The patches closest to his back were a dark grey though… how curious.

“I-I see.” Alex stood up, shaky at first. Lafayette walked forward, cautiously, and allowed him to lean on his shoulder, or, forearm since he was so tall. “T-thanks.”

Looking around, Alex realized he knew this place. It seemed so familiar. It was startling. Trees surrounded the landscape, and the sun was not yet in the sky.

It was a clearing. Then he remembered.

He died here.

This very spot was where he was shot. Looking down, he shrieked when deep red spot was marked right between his ribs. He tried rubbing it away, but it didn't move.

A chuckle from above him made him glance up. Lafayette was smiling down at him, staring while he pawed at the mark.

“Alexandre, what are you doing?” Alex felt a blush creep up his neck.

“I-I… What is this?” He pointed to the mark.

“That, mon amie, is your death mark.” Laf replied. “It is a symbol for where and how you died.”

“... what if you die of sickness? O-or old age?”

“Ah, always the one with the questions. You,” He smiled brightly, “are still your old self.” Alex finally was able to stand on his own, taking the pressure off the his new friend. He soon found himself taking in the Frenchman.

He was tall. Not as tall as before, now that Alex stood on his own, but still rather tall. His curly hair was in a ponytail, tied back neatly. He had impeccable posture, and was rather thin. He had a defined jawline and a deep red-

“I-is that… your death mark?” Alex pointed to the thick line stretching around the front of his neck. Lafayette looked down, and self consciously rubbed it, looking away from him.

“Ah, y-yes, oui. Indeed it is…” Alex stared at him, then furrowed his brows.

“What happened to you?” He asked. Lafayette looked down, avoiding his gaze and shaking his head. His shoulders began trembling and his thin frame shook.

Big dark tears leaked from his eyes. They weren't thin, the way regular tears were. No. These tears were thick, like syrup. They formed largely, and left a trail of black down his face.

Lafayette suddenly took a step forward, slowly. Alex backed away.

“L-Laf?” His voice was small. He didn't respond. Instead, he walked forward, closing in on him.   
  
“Lafayet-”

“Let. Me. Show. You.” Lafayette suddenly grasped Alex’s hair tightly in a fist, making him yelp, and pulled him in.

Lafayette kissed him. It was only lips first, bust soon, his tongue forced its way inside of his mouth, making him give out a muffled cry. Tears began to form in his eyes, until suddenly..

His tongue touched Lafayette’s, and things went black.

…  
……..

….  
………..

WARNING FOR RAPE AHEAD, SKIP IF YOU WOULD LIKE.   
….   
……..  
..

  
‘That's right, you piece of shit. Take it all.’

Suddenly, he could see. He stared in horror at the image in front of him.

Lafayette was in a jail cell, shirtless. He could see every bone. He was malnourished, sick, dirty.

His hands were cuffed behind his back, and tears were streaming down his face.

He was on his knees, as a man circled him.

Alex wasn't looking at the man circling him.

He was looking at the man in front of Lafayette, raping his throat. Choked noises escaped Laf’s mouth, as the man shoved his dick deeper and deeper into his mouth.

“N-no…” Alex said. “STOP!” He lunged forward at the man, but went right through him, hitting the wall. A gurgled sound came from Lafayette, and the man grasped his hair roughly and tugged hard.

Alex couldn't look. He didn't want to look. Shaking his head, he tried to get out of the cell, but saw that there was some sort of barrier blocking his way out.

“AGh!” He turned, and saw Lafayette, being held up by his hair, still on his knees, taking deep breaths. A string of… God, Alex hoped that was saliva, kept the man's dick and his mouth attached.

‘You have enough yet, slut?’ Laf nodded, but the man shoved his cock back into his throat. Lafayette gagged furiously, as the man fucked his face roughly.

Alex cried hard, shaking his head, covering his eyes with his knees as he sunk to the floor. He covered his ears with his hands, and yet the loud slurping noises still made its through to him.

Just ignore it...just ignore it....justignoreitjustignoreitjustignoreit.....

An invisible force made him look. Something made him uncover his eyes after awhile, and regretted it instantly.

Both men were fucking him now, one from the back, the same man on his face.

Alex watched.

He watched as Laf cried.

He watched as the man came down his throat.

He.. he watched him swallow.

He watched the man come inside him from the back, as Laf cried harder.

The man pulled out of him mouth, Lafayette took big gulps of air, drool running down his chin as he sobbed in pain.

The man in front of him smirked, and reached behind him.

A knife.

Alex suddenly knew how Lafayette died. One of the worst ways to die.

Slow, and painful.

The man held the knife to Laf's throat, while Lafayette simply closed his eyes. He welcomed death. He took one last breath, murmured a French prayer, and suddenly, the man swiped.

A deep gash appeared, blood dripped endless, as Lafayette made gurgling noises, choking on his own blood.

As soon as the men left, Alex ran over to the man, and…

he could touch him. He cried as his only friend he remembers dies in front of his eyes. He stroked the man's hair, and sang a French song his mom used to sing to him before she died…

‘Cadet Rousselle a trois maisons,   
Cadet Rousselle a trois maisons,   
Qui n'ont ni poutres, ni chevrons,   
Qui n'ont ni poutres, ni chevrons,   
C'est pour loger les hirondelles,  
Que direz-vous d' Cadet Rousselle?  
Ah! Ah! Ah! oui vraiment,  
Cadet Rousselle est bon enfant.’

He placed Laf's head atop his lap, humming the toon.

Lafayette cried, and Alex gripped the man's hand, wiping away his tears.

After what seemed like hours of Lafayette choking on his clotting blood in his throat.. he stopped.

The noises ended. The hand he grasped went limp, as the Frenchman closed his eyes.

...Il met celui-là quand il gèle….

……  
……….  
……..  
…  
.  
RAPE SCENE IS OVER HERE  
.  
…….

Alex was gripping strongly at the man in front of him. Tears still strained down his face, even if what he witnessed wasn't real. He wasn't sure when or how he started hugging him, but what he did know was that he didn't want to let go.

“L-Laf…” Lafayette squeezed Alex tighter, closer to his body, “I-I'm so sorry…”

A sob escaped the man above him, and the two stayed like that for awhile, holding each other, just together.   
*  
*  
*

“I-if it's okay to ask… where were you during.. th-that?” Alex and Lafayette walked mindlessly through the woods, after they finally stopped crying and cleaned themselves up.

“Ah, well,” He started, pushing a branch away from his head, “France had started a revolution. You may not remember, but we, mon amie, were quite good friends. Back in America, I was a general, alongside with George Washington. Not to sound, ah, how you say, full of myself, but if it were not for moi et my troops, there may not have been a revolution.” Alex nodded as he said this. That explains the fight, the men in uniforms, and he had a feeling the bald man was George, but he was not certain.

“Well, when France decided to start one of their own, chaos began began after Austrian troops began invading. I-I… I was captured, a-and killed after spending about four years in that jail cell…” Alex nodded sadly in understandment.

How dare those people. He hoped those men die in hell.

“Why did you kiss me?” Lafayette looked slightly shocked at his question, then blushed.

“That happens when I… when someone asks. It does not happen to everyone, but, it does to me…” Alex swallowed, and took Laf’s hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. He hoped that didn't happen to him when he had to tell anyone of his past.

“Speaking of which, how did you get killed, mon petite?” Lafayette asked. Alex frowned.

“I was shot.” Lafayette looked down at him, processing, then sighed.

“Was it Burr?” He asked.

“Who?” Alexander looked up, and cocked his head.

“N-never mind.”  
*  
*  
*  
*

The two continued walking, and decided to sit in a clearing. It was noon, since it was still dark out when the two met.

“Why are we at the place I got shot?” Alexander had been wondering for awhile, but did not want to ask after such a sad experience.

“Zut, I forgot to tell you. This, is the SafeDome. There were multiple, but… that's not important right now. The important thing is, you're in this Dome, and not the others. These places change, according to where you die. Every time someone new comes here, it changes.” Lafayette played with a blade of grass, rolling it in his hand.

“Why aren't there more people here? Or.. arriving?” Alexander picked up a flower that was next to him, and played with the pedals while Laf threw the blade of grass behind him.

“O-oh… well, I, uh…” Laf took a deep breath, “A king enslaved many Angels. He is not from here. He was a mistake from the start. He was supposed to be in Hell, but somehow managed to end up here. He… he is too powerful for us Angels, and managed to turn many of us into savages. They are corrupted, and broken.”

“C-can't you fix them?” Alex stopped playing with the flower to stare at Laf.

“Non, once they are broken… they can not be fixed. They are mentally damaged and unstable. He has done… things to them. Awful, disgusting things. And I… I ran away. Like some coward.” Lafayette shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “I left my friends and family behind. Everyone…” A tear fell, but instead of the black tar-like substance that stuck to his face, it was a light gold.

His wings drooped, and encased him slightly. Against the sun, he looked beautiful. His tears shined, and his olive skin gave off a lovely glow. His slight stubble accented his jawline perfectly. His, impossibly long, eyelashes were breathtaking. Thinking back, Alexander wouldn't have minded Lafayette kissing him.

Taking a deep breath, Alex looked up at the sky, and felt his feathers ruffle in the warmth of the sun, and exhaled in content. He wouldn't mind living here. Maybe, him and Lafayette could live here together, and welcome new Angels with open arms.

Maybe death wouldn't be all that bad.   
*  
*  
*  
*

He awoke in a heated warmth. Arms wrapped around him, and his head laying on a rising and falling chest. He snuggled closer, and wrapped his arms around Eliz-

Eliza.

His wife.

Angelica's sister.

He bolted upright, only to be surrounded by a mass of feathers. Looking down, he saw Lafayette laying beneath him, his wings acted like a blanket over Alex’s body.

Eliza. He remembered her. He remembered her eyes, her black hair,

Her face when he broke her heart.

How he did it, he wasn't sure, but he immediately regretted whatever he did, because that seemed like the only image he could remember of her.

He gripped the sides of his head, and realized he remembered something else.

In fact, someone else.

His mother.

During the horrible flashback of Lafayette, he remembered her. How could he forget?! He mentally cursed to himself, he could've forgot again.

Smiling, he remembered playing with his mom outside, and her teaching him how to cook. The songs that she sang to him before she tucked him in.

He also… remembered how she died.

He lay in her arms, her limp body against the bed frame. She gave him her pills. She saved him instead of herself.

He didn't deserve that.

And yet, here he is. A man he lived most of his life with, lying beneath him. And yet it felt like he had just met the guy. Sighing, he began standing, until arms grasped his and pulled him back into the mass of feathers.

“Laf..” He whispered, trying to wake the sleeping man.

“Mmmhhmm…, not now, Hercules…”

Hercules? Who was that?

Alex used his free hand and found the side of Laf’s torso, and gave a hard squeeze, making the man jump and squeal.

“H-Herc!!” He jumped up, wings up and excited, until he looked around and visibly drooped. “O-oh… uh, je suis désolé, Alexandre.” He murmured.

Alex cocked his head and smiled sadly, “Who's Hercules?” Lafayette stared at him for a few beats, and brightened soon after.

“Ahh, well,” He blushed intensely, “he uh, we were a group. Best friends, the three of us. Hercules John and I.” He looked up longingly at the sky, as if daydreaming, “Hercules and I, we clicked right away. We were best friends… maybe even more…” He looked away, slightly ashamed. “But, we could not allow that relationship to get out to anyone, so our status was simply friends. He was quite heart broken when I went back to France…” he paused, breathed, “and, especially when I died.”

“How did you know?” Alexander asked.

“Well, before… the King, we saw each other here. We were together for about a year and then…” He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“It's okay, I understand.” Alex grasped his hand, and leaned into the other affectionately. “At least, you aren't alone anymore.”

“Oui, I am glad. “ He offered a small smile in return.  
*  
*  
*  
*

“We should help them.”

“Quoi?”

“The people that King enslaved. We should save them. Maybe..”

His son.

His son is dead. His son is here.

“My son…”

Lafayette stopped, and turned to look at him, dumbfounded.

“Your…”

“My son… I-I have a son!” Alex felt tears once more. He gripped the sides of his head and dug his hands into his hair. “My son is dead! He's here! Holy shit, how could I forget?! We have to find him! I need to find my son! M-my… my…

My Phillip…”


	2. Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destruction leaves death in it's path
> 
> Along with dark memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW this is kinda late sorry I was busy
> 
> thanks for all ur support!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YALL ARE TOO NICE!!!
> 
> so,,, enjoy this chapter!!
> 
> twf slight gore and grossness, but nothing too bad

The sun in the sky rose just enough for Alex to see the tip, giving off a saturated rouge effect, the clouds only adding to how magical the moment felt. Alex sighed deeply, breathing in through his nostrils and enjoying the sweet milky scent of freshly dewed grass. It wasn’t until he felt a small tickle on his nose did he finally fully wake up, stretching his wings.

Looking up, he noticed that numerous flower petals, seemingly dahlias, slowly trickled down, emitting from an oak tree. The petals scattered around him, creating a fantasy-like image, as the wind carried them far away, outside of the SafeDome.

Alex began to stand up, deciding to find exactly where those petals were coming from, and chuckled, noticing a rather familiar pearly wing peaking from a branch. The Frenchman must’ve thought he was slick, but Alex found that hiding wings is harder than hiding a boner. 

“Hmm.. I wonder where Laf has gone?” He mocked his obliviousness, smirking when he heard a soft chuckle emit from the same branch where the feathers poked out. “Oh, well, guess I’ll go look for him elsewhere…” Alex quickly dove behind a nearby weeping willow, the vines of leaves aiding him in being undetected. 

Lafayette gracefully hopped from the branch when he thought Alex was gone, using he wings as leverage. The man looked around rapidly, and began trekking over to a small patch of cherry blossom trees, when Alex decided to chase him. 

Lafayette seemed slightly panicked, looking back and forth rapidly, when suddenly the air in his lungs was knocked out of him as an unknown forced suddenly made him fall to the ground with a soft ‘Umph!’

“Gotcha!” Alex chuckled, pinning the man down by the back of his shoulders, while his pearly wings flapped quickly to try and shake him off. “Pssh, like your lanky small wings are going to- AGH!” Alex was suddenly flipped on his back and pinned as well, and stared in slight confusion and wonder as Lafayette now loomed over him.

“You silly Americans, always assuming you can outrun us.” Laf exaggerated his accent and faked an offended look, which made Alex roll his eyes. When Alex finally looked the other in the eye, he noticed a small pink flower crown wrapped around his head, made of, shockingly, dahlias. 

Lafayette released Alex’s shoulders for a moment, fixing the makeshift crown, then presumed his position, smirking then leaning down so they were face to face. “I see you have noticed my tiara.” He looked up on emphasis, “Since I am, in fact, a queen.”

“Psh, queens wear crowns, you dingus.” Lafayette cocked his head, the unknown word making him think for a moment, before shrugging and pinning him back down when Alex tried to sit up. “C’mon, let me go!” Alex complain, only earning a sharp tsk from Laf.

“Non. You must learn your lesson.” 

“Lesson? What did I do?” Alex absentmindedly plucked at the grass that grew next to him.

“You, mon amie, are a sneaky little-” Lafayette stopped suddenly, forgetting his task at holding Alex down, and quickly jumped off, standing. 

“Laf? What-” Laf shushed him firmly, rapidly looking back and forth, when suddenly, he heard it.

It was a low rumble, something you’d hear in a horror movie, and suddenly..

“Get on my back.” Lafayette suddenly said.

“W-what?”

“GET ON MY BACK, NOW!” Lafayette suddenly ran forward and snatched Alex, carrying him bridal style, and sprinted, opening his wings out, and accelerated.

“LAF WHAT’S GOING ON?!” Alex yelled, the air in his ears making it hard to hear. Lafayette ignored him, focused on flying, far up and far away. “L-Laf?!” Alex tugged lightly on the Frenchman’s shirt, shivering slightly at the thought that he was at least thirty feet off the ground, and at any moment Laf could drop him. 

Lafayette seemed to sense Alex’s distress, because he cooed softly and held him close to his chest. His strong wings gliding against the wind, occasionally beating down to keep him aflight. 

“We must evacuate, mon amie. This place is going corrupt, has been for awhile in fact. I am very surprised at how well it held up.” He said softly, sadness seeping through his words. Alex turned slightly, so he could see straight ahead. His eyes widened when he saw a malleable substance that seemed to look like a bubble encasing the perimeter of the SafeDome. 

“Laf… is… is that-?”

“Oui. Indeed, that is our way out. Hold on tightly, this may sting for a few moments.” Alex looked up, watching as Lafayette ducked his head to brace for the incoming impact that would soon to hit the two of them. Alex nuzzled deeply into the others chest, gripping on his shirt until his knuckles were white. 

The force of the wall hit him fast. There was a rush that went straight to his head. He felt dizzy, like he was falling until it was replaced by a stinging pain and a blinding white light that felt like his head was filled with cotton. That was nothing compared to the sharp pain he felt in his wings, head and the exact spot where he had been shot. Through the white nothingness surrounding him, he saw Lafayette seemingly choking. 

He gripped his neck, and, by removing his hand, cause Alex to begin dropping…

Down…

…………..down……………..

……………………..down………..

down………….

…………………………………………………..down………………………………………

……………………

……………………….

………..

……..

……………..

……………………………………

…..

A groan escaped Alex as he opened his eyes, and looked around. As he observed his surroundings, he realized that wherever he was it looked abandoned. Not one soul walked the streets. Dead trees lined the pavement-like ground, and old creaky houses moaned as the wind shoved them back and forth. 

Alex shakily stood, knees buckling beneath his weight, head going faint. His eyes were out of focus, and a stinging pain seared through his thoughts on the back of his head. Blinking a few times, his vision slowly came back into focus, allowing him to see clearly, and noticed how utterly lonely everything felt. 

Turning, he gasped when he saw Lafayette laying on his side, a wing stuck beneath his body and the other lay spread out across the ground. Any signs of movement were futile, and the slight twitches of his shoulders only made Alex worry more.

He stumbled his way over, falling to his knees when he stood next to the other angel. He turned Laf onto his back, and jumped back at the sight of him. Dark thick liquid oozed from the red mark across his neck, dripping down like tree sap. He seemed to be choking on it, the corners of his mouth had the tar-like substance dribbling from the corners of his mouth. His eyes only showed the whites, only adding to the effect. 

“O-oh… oh god, Laf…” Alex had to move fast. Although he was already dead his friend was obviously in pain. Looking around, he found nothing useful, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. 

He opened Laf’s mouth and shoved two fingers inside, wincing at the other’s gagging noises and choked off screams. He shoved them further, looking for a possible clot blocking his air flow, until he found it. A slimy tumor-like clotting of whatever that black liquid was gathered in this throat. 

Alex now had almost his whole fist in the other’s mouth, not relenting and determined to help his friend. His fingers searched for the end of the mass in his throat, and, when he finally found it, shot his hand back out, along with the clot. 

Lafayette wheezed vigorously, eyes bulging and chest heaving rapidly, wings snapping up and down for a split second, until they finally settled. He coughed harshly, the ooze dripping down his mouth onto the ground. His breaths were forceful, sucking in air quickly. His hands came up to wipe away the black liquid and wiped it onto the ground, finally sitting up to regain his senses.

“M-mon... mon amie…” He said between breaths, closing his eyes, willing himself to relax and stop trembling, “Je suis desole…” 

Lafayette looked tired. His eyes drooped and he had dark circles beneath his eyes. His wings lack their stiff hold, and instead lay awkwardly against the ground. A soft sob escaped him, and he turned away embarrassed by the recent happenings.

“Laf… it’s… it’s okay! Please, don’t cry” Alex soothed, bringing a hand out to touch the others arm, but brought it back when the Frenchman flinched. 

“I… I think I need some time… alone…” Lafayette mumbled. Instead of arguing like Alex wanted to do, he nodded and gave the other space. He decided to explore by himself, daring to give one last look at his friend before he left. 

Laf sat in the same spot, now fearfully staring at the black tumour that was in his throat from before, eyes terrified for reasons unknown. His hands twitched beneath him, and his shoulders shook noticeably, but Alex thought better to not question it and continue walking. 

Not a single angel walked the streets. In was abandoned, the thick scent of death lingering in his nostrils and the questionable stains on the pavement made him shiver. He wasn’t sure what happened here, but by the looks of it, it was bad.

Very, very bad. 

Sighing, and opened yet another home that he passed and looked inside. 

Nothing.

Not a single trace of anyone or anything anywhere. Dusty curtains were ripped, lamps were dented and windows were shattered, but no signs of any life or recent movement. Alex huffed in frustration, patience lowering by the minute. There had to be  _ someone _ around here. There couldn’t possibly be…

…..

No one…

Could there?

He walked out of that house, in time to hear a loud crashing noise, and, turning, he watched in horror as the SafeDome he once occupied crumbled into dust. What was left of it was…

….

A lot like the place he was in now. The once brightly colored trees were now grey, most were dead. The lovely blue sky was dull and cloudy, and the persimmon flowers wilted into crisp nothingness. 

And it suddenly hit him. 

He wasn’t in an abandoned town. 

He was in an old SafeDome. Someone had already been here, and destroyed it not too long ago. Which means….

……………

That someone was still out there. 

“Well hello…” a raspy voice suddenly came from behind him,

**“You’re new around here, aren’t you…” **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read a twenty one pilots fanfic but I didn't understand what 'Blurryface' looked like someone explain plz.


	3. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex is caught, escapes, and meets new... friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SJIWOAH IM BACK AFTER RLY LONG S O R RY
> 
> I'm focusing on my main fic rn, Laf(alling)ayette the fighting Frenchman, so check that out too if you want to see more work from me!!! 
> 
> Side note: I honestly love tea sm

Alex didn’t remember much. Granted, he barely remembers his past life. But, one thing is for sure, he doesn’t remember being blindfolded. He doesn’t remember getting his hands tied together, or his ankles. He doesn’t remember getting a sack put onto his head, and he sure as _ fuck _ doesn’t remember being hauled onto some sort of wagon. 

And yet, here he is. On the back of a wagon, helpless as ever.

He huffed, and tried moving his arms, but grunted when a sharp pain erupted in his wrists. 

_ Barb wire… _

Fucking clever ass fuckers. He winced when he felt a drop of liquid roll down his hand. He truly hoped it was blood. He moved his legs, and was surprised to find they weren’t barbed, but when he moved his wings…

Oh boy, did that hurt. He let out a soft yelp through the cloth around his mouth when a sharp stinging sensation bloomed into his wings. It felt like some sort of numbness… but at the same time like they were on fire. Tears pricked in his eyes, and he felt beyond weak when the sensation finally let up. 

He tried shimmying his shoulders, to find out exactly where he was, when he bumped into something… something warm. Something sweet smelling…

He wasn’t sure what this was… or  _ who _ this was. 

His head nudged by the being, as he brought it back then shot it forward into the other, earning a whimper of pain from whoever the hell this is. Is couldn’t be Laf… Laf smelled like lavendar. No, this creature…  _ they smelled like cinnamon… or quite possibly cider. One of those two… Apple pie? No… maybe honey… _

“Hey! Stop that!” a rough voice said, as a sudden kick was brought to his torso. He furrowed his brow when a huff of laughter emitted from whoever this was. God, if he were free… he’d… he’d…

“Mmmph!” a different voice came from wherever they were. Their voice was small, much more child like. They sounded all but 19…

“Heh, you like that, don’ you? You little scum bag…” A scream filled the vehicle from whoever was laying next to him, and he felt panic arise in his chest. Although he didn’t know who this was, he sure as fuck wanted to help them. 

He bit harshly at the make shift gag, and kicked his legs wildly. The stinging in his arms and wings was numbing, but he was far too determined to stop now. When a panicked little shout came from the body next to him, he sped up his movements. A sudden unbuckle of  _ something _ made his blood run cold and oh god someone was crying and-

**_*CRASH*_ **

A deafening noise emitted from where his feet lay, and he felt the strong pull of wind at his legs lap at him. 

“And just what do y’all think yer doin’?” A southern drawl pulled him from his frenzy, and a harsh yell from above made him shiver. Foot steps by his head rattled his core, and suddenly a pair of hands were on his arms. 

He fought. God, he fought and fought. He didn’t know who this was but by god he didn’t want to find out. A deep belly chuckled only mad ehim fight more. 

“ _ Relax, _ I’m not gonna hurtcha.” That only made his fear grow. But, he soon realized whoever this was, was untying him. His hands now free, he ripped off the blindfold ignoring the pain from his hands that were now bleeding profusely, and looked around.

He gasped, because dear God there were angels scattered throughout the wagon they were in. The creature that had kicked him from before now lay of the ground, his chest bleeding rapidly. Alex untied his feet and stood, focused on helping the others. 

ALexander looked to his right, and saw a curly-haired man and shorter dark skinned man untying the presumably kid the was lying next to him. He walked forward to the closest person and took off their blindfold, and immedietly jumped back with a yelp. 

They seemed fine from the outside, but their eyes had a dark grey coating, upon closer inspection, this angel has black liquid running out it’s mouth, similar to the stuff that oozed out of Laf’s mouth not to long ago. His hand shaky, he moved to untie the next angel, blood running cold when he noticed they too ended up with the same fate. 

Looking at the two who had rescued him, who now were helping up the boy who was tied next to Alex not too long ago, and silently asked for guidence. The taller one noticed, and his eyes drooped slightly before speaking.

“They’ve gone corrupt. Ain’t nothin’ you can do about it. Their souls’ve gone black. What’s left of em are just a hollow shell of who they used to be.” He said, before kicking open the wagon back and holding out his hand for Alex to take. “Take my hand, quickly. We don’t have much time.” 

Nervously, Alex gripped the Southerner’s hand, his still had dried blood on it, but the other didn’t say anything. He watched as the shorter man grabbed the smaller boy and jumped out the vehicle, him and the other not far. Behind.

A loud groan escaped his lips as he came in contact with the ground, wings losing all censors from whatever the stinging sensation had been coming from, as Alex rubbed his bum. He now had a terrible headache, and apperently, three new companions.

“Laurens ‘ll be happy with what we found today, yeah?” The tall man said, his shorter friend nodding. 

“Yep. Just so long as you don’t piss him off like you usually do you Virginian fuck.” The man must’ve sensed Alex’s discomfort, and immedietly turned to him with a smile. “James Madison. Pleased to meet you.”

“And I’m Thomas Jefferson. Also glad to become your aqquaintence.” Alex nodded, eyes still wide with shock, shoulders still trembling. 

“I-I’m Alexander Hamilton. T-that’s all I remember.” He mumbled, looking down at his thumbs. The two above him nodded, turning towards the smallest of the quartet, who shrunk in on himself, mute. 

“He’s not a talker, is he.” Alex heard Thomas grumble to James. He hadn’t even known the guy for five minutes and Alex already didn’t like him. Huffing, he stood up, stretching, and wincing as his wings gave off a slight sting. Thomas noticed this, and made his way behind Alex to his confusion. 

The worst pain he’d ever felt suddenly bloomed from his back. It felt as if thousands of sharp pins were shooting into his skin, the tingling becoming unbearable. He found himself unable to support his weight, knees buckling beneath him, and just as he was about to fall, James appeared in front of him, holding him upright.

The pain left as quickly as it came, leaving Alex a sweating mess. The younger boy the stood a respectable distance stared in horror when James began approaching him, quickly sprinting away. Huffing, Thomas jumped, and propelled himself using his wings and quickly snatched the boy, making him scream and squirm uslessly. 

He gave up once Thomas brought him back to earth(?), going limp in his arms and quickly wiping away tears. Even from far away, Alexander could visibly see the other’s trembling, and his red spot right below his ribs. 

  
Strange, it looked familiar. 

Before Jefferson touched him, he asked him a simple question.

“What’s your name, shorty?” He sneered. Voice wavering, the freckled boy replied with a simple;

**“P-Philip, sir.” **


	4. An Escape?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex and Philip are betrayed, and Laf Is just in pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jEsus this took awhile but the good thing is my other fic is finished so i'll be able to update my two Angel fics a lot more now^^
> 
> sorry for the wait ! this fic will be a lot shorter than my others, but do enjoy !

Philip. It’s my son. That’s my son! 

The words were on replay through Alexander’s mind, starring in pride. The frail boy was clearly scared, wings drawn back and head stooped low. Jefferson stalked behind him, eyes boring into the back of the boy's body, while Madison had a tight grip on Hamilton’s own shoulder. 

“W-where are you taking us?” Philip ask softly. His eyes averted the tallest one’s gaze, casting low and locked on his feet. 

“Laurens’.” Jefferson answered curtly, answering absolutely none of either angels’ questions. They had been walking for what felt like hours. Alex took note of the occasional limp Philip had, his legs were obviously tired. 

“W-who-” Philip was quickly caught off by Thomas gripping the boy’s shoulder and shoving him down, causing the former to yelp. Hamilton, now alert of the sudden roughness the taller man shown, attempted to aid his son. In the process, he forgot about the grip James had on his shoulder, and went stumbling to the ground once the other caught sight of his plan. 

“Stay down.” Jefferson whisper-yelled, making Philip whimper. Apparently, that whimper was too loud, because one of the man’s strong hands clamped down, might Alex say, painfully against the mouth of the trembling kid. Alexander, on the other hand, was about to scream. About to yell bloody hell because clearly Jefferson was hiding something and clearl-

Screaming. Loud, distant screams rang through the air and made his ears bleed. Glancing up, he saw Madison grimace, face contorting in disgust. Thomas’ following in suite.

“Fuck.” James cursed, letting up on his bruising grip on Hamilton. Both angels who were, at least to Alex, captured were roughly tugged up and placed on their feet. “There goes another survivor.”

“No shit, sherlock.” Jefferson grumbled, pushing Philip firmly and motioning him to resume walking. The boy’s shoulders slumped, clearly exhausted. And honestly? Alex wanted to help. Wanted to run from the hand of his ‘captors’ and tell Philip exactly who he was. To turn away with him, and bring Gilbert with them. Maybe then things would go back to normal. “Stop whining, kid. We’ll be there in about ten minutes.” 

Hamilton, biting back a snarl, continued on forth. Those ‘ten minutes’ turned out to be around an hour, and by that time Pip was to the brink of collapsing. The four stopped in from of an old, tall building. Alex stared up, eyes going wide when he noticed the fact that there were barely any windows.  
*

“This is what you brought me?” Henry Laurens snapped, eyes narrowing and teeth bared. The outlines of his veins were red, meaning there must have been some type of fatal blood mishap. The said man gestured at Alexander as if he were a slug. “What kind of bastard did yo-”

“Don’t forget this one.” Thomas said matter-of-factly, shoving Philip a bit too hard causing him to stumble and fall. A sudden interest sparked in Henry's eyes, because a sudden tilt of the side of his mouth indicated he was, in fact, pleased. 

“Ohohoho, and what do we have here~” He sang, jumping to his feet and stalking forward, eyeing Pip hungrily. A clawed hand extended out to the boy, tracing the outline of his jaw and resting on his bottom lip. Philip shrieked and jumped back, eyes wide and heart pounding frantically. Henry, seemingly expecting this reaction, extended his dark wings and growled. “He’s not trained?!” He snapped.

“W-well.. Uh,” Thomas stammered, looking to James for help. Jefferson shrugged softly, eyes darting, clearly panicked. “He.. we… uh…” Henry rolled his eyes, clearly unamused.

“Whatever. Next time you bring me untrained pets you’re not getting my shit.” He spat, before throwing a pair of keys into Thomas’ hands. “Martha already let me down with that untrained French fuck, I don’t need another job to do.” 

James and Thomas quickly thanked him, before running across the room and opening a door that led to the hallway. Curious, Alex craned his neck, aching to see what was behind the door. Unfortunately for him, the window was tainted and therefore not translucent.

“Eager are we?” Henry purred, eyes narrowing and teeth baring threateningly. He eyed Alex for a moment, considering him for a second, before turning his attention to Philip. In response, Philip squeaked, flinching back and cowering. “A real shame you aren’t trained…” He rambled on just as he reached out to Phlip. 

“n-No!” He yelled, jumping away from the grip of the man, running straight for Alex’s arms-

Oh.

Embracing the other tightly, Alexander stood, backing away and keeping a protective hold on the boy. 

“Get your pedophilic hands away from my son!” He yelled. Philip, either ignoring the situation or just too terrified to care, only held tighter. 

“Psh, relax pet. I’m not doin’ anything to him today.” Henry said, reaching behind him and bearing a black collar. “Just making him mine, is all.”

“Y-you’re insane!” Alex yelped, backed into the corner with no escape. 

“Maybe I am. But, lets face it, we’re all a little fucked up.”  
*  
*

The first thing Alexander felt once he came to, was heavy. He felt so goddamn heavy. Some kind of weight on his shoulders held him down, making him immobile. Not only that, but he was tired. So, so tired.

“F-fuck.” He hissed, pain sparking up into his head and spreading quickly. As he went to cradle his head, it was then he realized the… the chains. The handcuffs, and the neck brace. Looking around, he noticed Philip, eyes wide and body trembling vigorously. “P-philip! Calm down, we’re gonna get out, okay? I promise!” Philip, most likely too terrified to notice, said nothing.

Sighing, Alex glanced around the cell, eyes stopping when he caught sight of a heap of an angel.

Wait.

That ‘heep of an angel’ turned out to be no other than…

“Lafayette!” Alex shouted softly, body straining against his refrains. “L-Laf! Oh, oh god I’m so glad you’re okay!” He got no response, just a weak strain of the Frenchman’s muscles to signal the fact that he was alive. His head hung low, and his wings were lined with what looked like to be blood. 

Shit. He needed to get both Philip and Laf out of here before either of their mental states get any worse. Biting his lip, Alex frantically whipped his head around, eyes searching for some kind of escape. He tugged at his restraints, and was pleased to find them slightly loose. Not relenting he pulled harder, sweat beginning to gather at his forehead. A sudden murmur from outside of the cell door made him freeze. 

Two Angels, both menacing and from the looks of it male, approached the three. Alex, on edge, eyed the two. He barked out a threat when one worked on slipping Philip out of his restraints, while the other was occupied with waking Lafayette. He brought a harsh kick to the latter’s stomach, making him curl in on himself and cough up bile. In a panic, Alexander screamed, attempting to get the intruders to give him some sort of attention, but received none.

It was going to be a long, long night.  
*

Lafayette was exhausted. After the brutal ‘training’ he had been put through, he couldn’t seem to find the energy to fight back anymore. His arms and torso were sore. Tired from the constant straining and new bruises that littered his body. Not only that, but he was already infected. What other use did he even have?

Henry Laurens clearly didn’t notice the way his eyes would occasionally turn pale. How he’d choke up dark ooze that filled his throat and cut off his air. All he really felt, was constant pain. 

Laf was in some sort of blood cartel. He noticed the hundreds of old hospital rooms that once supported multiple patients that had become Corrupt. 

Lafayette didn’t have to see to know none were cured. 

Constant groans echoed throughout the building, chains rattling and eerie screams filled the halls he was being escorted through. Although he stumbled frequently, Gilbert somehow managed to get to the testing room without falling. Behind him, he could hear the kid whimper behind him, before one of the men had pushed him out of the room and left Laf alone with the stranger. 

“Alright, you be a good little whore and suck me off, and I’ll make this whole process less painful, yeah?” The strange Angel demanded. “Or I’ll just make both a nightmare for you.” Lafayette knew how this process went. He could either obey, giving up both his pride and dignity, or annoy the hell out of the stranger.

“Non.” Laf said, motionless. 

“Why you little-” The man didn’t even get to finish his sentence, because one of the Corrupt had been left in the room and was now biting off chunks of the man’s flesh and oh god Lafayette run, run! Escape while you still can!

 

Although he almost fell about seven times, he made it to Alex’s cell, only to find the man gone. 

Shit, he was too late.


	5. The Black Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which friends are... reunited?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOLOLOL I'm having writers block whOoPs
> 
> anyway have this !1!!

The Corrupt were beings who once roamed the SafeLands many years ago. Innocent Angels who had no reason to be cursed with the Common Infection had theirs souls turn sour and unstable. It was an unfortunate event that caused thousands their immortal bodies and gives up the control they once had. 

And, sure, these people were already dead and ‘safe’ in the SafeLands, able to hop through Safe Domes and the expanse of Heaven. Things used to be peaceful and orderly.

Calm before the storm, as they always say.

A greedy man with the name George III overran the Order, forced them to surrender with hundreds of rebels that followed him. Once he took control and had entered the mind of the Elder Order’s, he saw all. He knew all. Could fly faster than the speed of light, Land hop quicker than all, and unlock everyone’s secrets. 

Inside of the Elder Order’s mind, were secrets that should’ve terrified the Angels who spanned beyond the SafeLands. George grasped the knowledge of what Angels call the Common Infection. An unknown illness that spread through Angels and rendered them useless. Turned once calm and peaceful people into mindless chaotic zombies. 

With this information, George forced all to bow down to him. To give up their protests and beg him not to release such an infection among the crowd. He spared them, with the cost that all treat him with royalty and dub him with the name King. Sex cartels and numerous Angel trades were created, and a land that once homed billions of calm citizens had been transformed into a breeding ground of whores and bastards. 

Unfortunately, although the public had obeyed his every command, King was unable to contain the virus that spread through his mind. With the knowledge and curiosity that scratched relentlessly at his mind, he released such and infection. Immediately, he panicked. Bolted into hiding inside the Order, and never left the structure for the continuing years. 

Now, most lands were dead. Abandoned. Left to rot and turn to rubble. Any survivors scavenged for either innocent souls that were helpless and had no sort of defense, and a select few went to gather an army. And army to overthrow the so called ‘King’ and take back what was once theirs. 

It was said that there was, in fact, a resistance. Angels that had an antidote, had knowledge. Said one of the Elder Order’s had, in fact, survived, and lead a group of rebels that had shared such knowledge of the land from before. Before King. 

Such stories were considered myth, and that there was no hope for the lives of the immortal. 

*

*

Alexander held a limp Philip tightly to his chest, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. The boy’s breaths were labored, harsh and uneven. His brows drawn together in either panic or frustration. Hamilton had been looking for his son, fear laced in his bones at the thought of what they could be doing to the boy.

His answer was answered as soon as he entered the east wing. There was Philip, on his knees in front of some  _ bastard.  _

Alex saw red, beating the Angel’s face into the floor with his fists.

Philip had passed out from lack of air. 

Next thing he knew, Alexander was sprinting through the building, searching for a way out, when he stumbled upon a peculiar room. 

Needles lined the walls, along with dozens of bag of blood. Why would they-

_ Oh.  _

He had found himself standing in the middle of a giant Blood Dealing group. A blood trade. Angels would kill to get their hands on any of this blood. Why? Because the only way to save yourself from a bite from the Corrupt was to replace your blood completely. Of course, that blood will soon run out and leave your system, and the saneness is only temporary.

Terrifying. 

Not only that, but it  was severely dangerous. Endless scenarios could unravel and easily kill whoever is trying to rid themselves of the infection. Those who have the misfortune of getting bit have little to no hope left. 

Their only chance of survival is downing as many bags of pure blood they can get theirs hands on. Unfortunately, when they  _ do  _ turn, their minds become boggled, and soon only kill Angels for food, rather than a cure.

A dark world it is. A very dark world indeed.

*

Lafayette felt bile rise up in his throat, acid burning at his tongue and making him gag. Arms around his chest, his regurgitated the thick ooze. The worst part, aside from the pain and taste, was that the liquid was thick and would clog Laf’s throat. He’d whimper and hack, and the disgusting substance stuck to his chin. Shivering, he wiped the black stuff with his sleeve and attempted to stand.

Looking around, he immediately realized he had been brought to some sort of bedroom. Curious, he staggered to the door, pulling at the handle and praying to god it was unlocked.

To his luck, it opened with a soft creak. 

Wary, he stepped out and slowly peeked his head out. When the hallway was empty, he made his way to the right, looking into any doors that may be open.

It was when he stumbled upon a room with loud creaking and soft sobs did he stop and look inside.

A woman, around her early twenties, had a tube down her throat with blood pouring down it. She was attached to some sort of machine, replacing her blood and causing her to choke. She whimpered, hands tied behind her back and helpless. Gasping, Lafayette jumped back, fear coursing through him and bile threatening to rise. 

To his misfortune, he back straight into another body. Turning back quickly, he yelped when a fist collided right into his jaw. He sobbed and doubled over, cradling the side of his face. A hand gripped his hip, squeezing  _ hard.  _ Laf’s eye widened at the implication of just what this man was about to do to him.

“N-Non!” He shrieked, bolting upright and smacking the Angel in the face and sprinting as fast as his weak legs could go. It was when he was on the verge of passing out did he lean against the wall and bring shaky hands up to his neck and squeeze. 

_ Something was in his throat he could feel it oh god he was going to die he can’tbreathIcan’tbreathIcan’t _ **_breath_ **

“Lafayette!” Someone yelled to him. The voice was familiar, and his bleary eyes glanced up to see Alexander holding an unconscious boy in his arms. “A-are you alright?”

**“M-mon… mon amie…” Gilbert choked out, before falling to his knees as more black gook spewed from his mouth. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT ON MY THISCRUSH PLLLLLLLLZZZZ;
> 
> www.thiscrush.com/HamCheddr
> 
> THANK UUUUUUUU


	6. Going Corrupt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laf Awakens

Small, clammy fingers raked through Lafayette’s curls. Words were being exchanged above him, but he couldn’t quite catch what was being passed. He didn’t want to wake up. At least, not yet. Instead he settled on listening to the conversation being held above him.

 

“What are we supposed to do about it?” A voice hissed. It was familiar. Not only the voice, but the situation. He always seemed to be the subject of conflict.

 

“I… I don’t know… There’s no cure. Nothing we can really do now. He’s too far gone, John. I-I…” A sob broke from the person above him, and finally Gil opened his eyes. Two faces. One of Alexander’s, and the other…

 

“John Laurens?” Laf hoarsely asked. Said man gave a sad smile and a small wave.

 

“H-hey Laf,” He said. A smile broke out on Lafayette’s face at the familiar face, but instantly fell at the concern in both men’s eyes.

 

“What is wrong?” He asked. Trying to sit up, Gilbert gasped in pain and instantly fell back down clutching his stomach. “M-merde.” He muttered, feeling bile rise up in his throat. Laying back down, he realized the ground was much softer than he remembered. He looked up, and say large, really large, brown eyes staring down at him and a mess of freckles. “Oh.”

 

Philip’s cheeks dusted with pink and he moved his focal point on a nearby tree. The boy seemed off, deeply perturbed as he shifted in his position.

 

“Try not to move too much, kid.” John chided, making Philip blush even more.  Sighing, Laurens glanced back down at Laf and instantly a solemn expression splayed across his face. Beside him, Alex demonstrated pure anger and… was that pity? Catching his expression, John tried to calm him. “Alexander-“

 

“No John. No, I’m not going to act like everything is fine, because it’s not!” Hamilton spat, glaring at John before turning back to the sick Frenchman. “How could you?! How could you do this to us? Y-You,” Alex choked off, shaking his head and turning the other way. In a panic, Philip attempted to aid his dad but paused when he got a grunt of pain from Laf after trying to move.

 

“A-Alexandre, I do not understand…” He trailed off, helplessly staring at the back of Alex’s head.

 

“You were bitten. You… you never told us, and you say you don’t understand? What about us! We don’t understand why… why you didn’t tell us… why you _do_ this to yourself.” Alex said softly. John sighed, glancing at Alex once before deciding to leave him alone.

 

“You’re going corrupt, Laf. A-and… there’s nothing we can do about it.” John said. The hand in Lafayette’s hair tightened at that, and a soft gasp was heard from above him.

 

“I-I… I don’t...“ Lafayette turned his head to the side and bit his lip. “I just thought that maybe… I don’t know,” His voice cracked at the end, causing Alex to flinch and Philip to begin crying. John closed his eyes and took a deep breath composing himself.

 

“I know, Laf. I know.”

 

 

Sometimes, when he was alone, Gilbert would sit and watch the stars. Would like the way they were all different, but at the same time they were always together. Small clusters connected by a few stray ones, and when one would disappear, it would always return with other stars waiting for it to come back. It was funny, really. Funny how it was like them. When he died, Hercules had been waiting for him. When Alex died, Laf had been there for him as well.

 

And now? He has three people he’d risk his life for. Three people who he barely remembered, and yet he’d do anything for. And yet staring at the stars made him feel so… different.

 

Like, throughout the universe, he was small and insignificant. Did he matter? Was it worth it to go all the way to the Order? To travel that far, only to meet his demise? The snap of a twig caught Laf’s attention, and panic set in. Wings raised, he was ready to flee, but relaxed when he realized it was only Philip.

 

“Bon nuit, mon petite.” He murmured softly, scooting over to make space for the younger angel to sit with him.  Philip said nothing, but joined him. Gilbert continued to stare up towards the sky while the boy got comfortable beside him.

 

A peaceful silence overtook them, and Philip found himself slowly leaning over to rest against the taller angel’s shoulder. Laf jumped at the contact, but said nothing. Stars twinkled above them, reminding him…

 

Reminding him of how unimport-

 

“Stars are pretty.” Philip spoke, interrupting Laf’s thought.

 

“O-oui, indeed.” “I always thought that’s where heaven was.” He said, stifling a yawn with his hand. “Even if this isn’t what I thought heaven would be like…”

 

“We are not in heaven.” Lafayette hissed. “We are in our own hell. This,” He motioned around them, “Is not paradise. It is a cruel game God has made, using us as his pawns.” Philip remained silent, but nodded slowly, confirming he understood. Closing his eyes, Gilbert shook his head and willed his tears away. _God don’t start now…_ Swallowing down his nerves, Lafayette clenched and unclenched his fists.

 

_Relax, relax… take deep breaths… don’t think about it… don’t think-_

“M- _merde,”_ He cursed, before he felt more of the thick black sludge began to rise in his throat. Jumping to his feet despite the pain his felt, he began running.

 

He ran, knowing what was coming. His head felt as if it was filled with cotton, making his head spin and legs feel weak. His vision blurred, and his body burned, but he ran as far away as he could. When he felt he could no longer move, so tired he felt numb, Laf dropped to his knees.

 

Clutching the earth, his stomach groaned in pain.

 

_Oh g-god, it’s happening…_

 

He was going Corrupt.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @ham-is-gr8 !!
> 
> for occasional art and if u have prompts/questions


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